Who'd have thought?
by TheSoliloquy
Summary: Pepper has never been a religious woman. Now all she can do is pray; if only for him.


"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Jan."

"Jan?" Pepper frowns into the dish of risotto, sniffing it cautiously before placing it into the microwave, licking her fingers free of the tangy sauce, "Is something wrong?"

"Er, no. No immediate danger." Replies the tinny voice from the other side, seemingly preoccupied with another task, "I'm just ringing to check up on Tony, the Cap was worried."

"Worried?" Pepper frowns again, watching closely through the small glass door as the dish spins slowly, "Why?"

"Well, lately, Tony's been seeming a bit… _off_. Y'know?" Jan pauses for a moment as if waiting for an answer, but on receiving none continues, "He was coughing quite a bit today, it sounded pretty harsh too."

"Coughing?" Pepper repeats, aware that her side of the conversation has been nothing but questions.

She can't help but doubt Jan's words as the billionaire himself strides absent-mindedly into the kitchen, dressed only in shorts, socks and a tank top as he fiddles with a gadget and goes to sit at the table. He sure looks fine.

"Yep. We did ask but… you know what he's like."

"Right…" Pepper murmurs thoughtfully, her tongue pressing against the roof of her mouth, before snapping out of her reverie and turning back to the microwave, "Thanks for ringing. I'll be watching… _closely_."

She says a quick farewell while taking the steaming dish out, and hangs up as she turns to Tony, his eyes still fixed on the gadget; he does look a little pale.

"Who was that?" He enquires distractedly as she lowers the dish down and begins sharing the large portion between two plates.

"Oh, just Happy." She replies, and sets his plate down in front of him.

"Just Happy?"

"Just Happy."

* * *

She wakes up at the normal time, brushes as normal, changes as normal, eats the same cereal she does everyday. Everything is executed in such an ordinary fashion that Pepper finds it hard to believe it's her birthday. As a child she'd always felt a special buzz, a sense of euphoria, which would last the whole day. But as soon as she hit her teens it didn't matter anymore. It was just another one of 365 days.

So when her car rolls into the outside driveway of Tony's house, she's surprised to see a banner hung up, reading "Happy Birthday Pepper."

Inside on the kitchen counter is a large parcel, wrapped in shiny red paper and completed with a blue ribbon. On top is a note.

_Happy Birthday, Miss Potts. 70 years on this world and still looking younger than me, how do you manage it?_

She peels away the wrapping and lifts the lid, hesitant with anticipation...

Only to find another box. Frowning, she opens it.

Another box.

She stands there for about 10 minutes, opening box after box after box, getting a little more confused with each. By the time she gets to the last box her hands are aching from lifting all of the lids, and the fact that inside is just the TV remote doesn't help much.

Sighing heavily she rolls her eyes, flicking back her fringe as she presses the power button. She doesn't know what she's expecting, but is a least a little disappointed to find it's just the news channel. She's about to turn it off when the anchorman's words catch her attention.

_'Today is the birthday of world class PA Virginia 'Pepper' Potts. I hope you all join me in wishing her a good day, and informing her to stand on the balcony and look out at the amazing views. In other news…"_

Pepper almost drops the TV remote, but recovers herself enough to step calmly out onto the balcony, leaning out over the rail and looking out at the horizon. Funnily enough, this time Pepper isn't surprised to see the words 'In the piano' spelt out in the sky. _A little cliché, isn't it? Though I guess it is Tony._

And sure enough, in the piano she finds a small black box.

The bracelet inside is beautiful; she wears it constantly. It reminds her of him.

* * *

Pepper likes to think she's observant. With a job such as hers, you need to be observant to spot mistakes and eye hidden paparazzi. Being observant meant she could sort the trash from the gold, something useful considering the amount of trash Tony brings home. By being observant she knows when Tony needs coffee, whether it should be strong or not, how much sugar he needs and how much he doesn't. Being observant means she can spot when Tony's beyond the aid of coffee, and when she needs to force him into bed. Being observant means she can protect Tony from things that want to do him harm. It's how she got her job in the first place: by being observant.

But she feels her observant skills have failed her when it takes her a whole week to realise that Tony hasn't been eating much. She'd started making passing indications that Tony should eat more: taking him more and more snacks in the lab, monitoring what he ate at work, and even giving him ridiculously large portions at dinner.

"Wow, Pepper, are you going to eat me once you've fattened me up?" Tony enquires once, staring down at the mountain of Bolognese on his plate.

"What? No, I'm just, er…" Her mind isn't too polished when it comes to lying, "You're looking a little skinny."

_Damn it, that wasn't a lie!_

"I think I'm quite fit, actually. Don't you?" He jokes, smoldering slightly.

But her plans don't help much. There's always more than half of the food left on the plate, and his half-hearted excuses get sloppier with each meal.

* * *

She's cancelling multiple appointments and meetings when she first hears it: a hacking sort of cough, harsh as it fills the air. She drops everything she's doing and hurries to follow the sound, scouring the whole house to find the source. It feels ridiculous, like she's playing hide and seek, but finally she spots Tony.

He's kneeling on the floor beside a marble coffee table, one hand on the table as if to hold him. His other hand is balled into a fist, and pressed firmly against his mouth as he tries to suppresses and control the cough. Tries and _fails_ to suppress and control the cough, Pepper grimly notes as she scurries like a mother hen over to him, firmly patting his back until finally he straightens, his expression smooth- as if nothing's just happened.

"Thank you, Miss Potts."

It makes Pepper curious.

* * *

"I'm going on my run." Tony's voice breaks her out of her daily quota, and she looks up from a stack of files to watch him lace up his trainers.

He's wearing shorts again, and a thin, black t-shirt with the words "I PITY THE FOOL" in red in the dead centre, a picture of a cartoon Mr T underneath it. It makes her smile, especially when she pictures him jogging up a red carpet wearing it, grinning at the press, laughing along with Bill Gates as if it's the most normal thing in the world. She's glad she works for an eccentric billionaire. She's met Bill Gates PA, and she seems like the sort of person tortured by boredom. So in comparison, eccentric is good.

"Want me to wait for you before I make soup?"

"Nah, it's fine. I'll warm it up when I get back." He gets up and goes towards the door, throwing a casual farewell over his shoulder, "Be back in an hour or two."

She finds him not long after, slumped on the couch, panting for breath, covered in sweat, looking like he's run a marathon wearing weights. Somehow she knows this will be his last run.

The soup is still hot.

* * *

He's on the couch, fast asleep, slumped back so far against the backrest he's almost lying down. She's never admitted it to herself, but she loves the way he sleeps; mouth slightly open, snoring ever so lightly, looking more like a baby than a billionaire playboy. After a moment of contemplation she decides against a blanket and is about to leave when he whimpers. It's a small sound- miniscule, really –but it draws her towards him. He's covered in sweat again, only this time he hasn't been running.

Only when she places a hand on his chest does he wake, jerking into another coughing fit that has them both busy for a few minutes.

* * *

Tony's shivering. Though Pepper would describe it more as shaking than shivering. He's asked several times for a jacket or for the temperature to be turned up, but each time Pepper has refused. She's been searching for the thermometer ever since she realised he was burning up. Finally, she finds it and all but shoves it in his mouth as he continues to hound her for a jacket.

"Damn it, Tony, you're hot." She sighs in frustration as she looks at the thermometer.

"Well, thank you. I think you're quite warmish too." Tony mumbles, his words slurring together as he rambles on, "You know, I'd be even hotter if you got me my jacket. I'd be _hot hot hot_."

Pepper frowns as he rocks forward and back slightly at the last three words, before putting the thermometer down.

"Come on." She says, pulling him up by the arm and leading him carefully along, "Lets get you in the bathtub."

"Bathtub? But-but I wanna go in the jacuzzi. You wanna come in the jacuzzi with me, Pepper?"

"No, Tony." She pushes him down to sit on the toilet seat, running the bath before turning back to Tony.

He giggles childishly as she pulls off his trouser and socks, leaving him only in his tank top and boxers. It would have made Pepper blush if not for the situation. She now faced the dilemma of getting him into the bath.

"What are you doing, Pepper? I don't wanna go in the bath."

"Come on, Tony." Pepper orders, then groans to herself, knowing exactly what she has to do.

She's glad she picked today to wear trousers and not a dress.

"Hey, Pepper. Are you coming in with me, Pepper?"

"Yes, Tony, I'm coming in with you." Pepper tells him as she gets him to step into the water, before stepping in after him.

Carefully she sits down with him, his back to her chest, his legs between hers as she uses her hands to ladle the lukewarm water over him, chafing his arms as he shakes against her.

"I don't like it, Pepper." He moans as she runs a wet towel over his face and neck.

Pepper makes the decision to call the Doctor in the morning.

* * *

It's the suit's fault. All the places he's been. She's always known it would be his alter ego that would bring him down. It isn't anything she expected, oh no, but enough for her to plead with him, to bring her to beg him to stop. Of course, he doesn't listen. Not even when the Cap and Thor come to back her up, to add to her pleas. He never listens.

After all, tuberculosis is treatable, he assures them.

* * *

Tony's struggling to cook breakfast. He's trying his best, and in his defence has at least gotten the eggs right. And the toast. It's the smell of burnt bacon that draws her to the kitchen.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm… Well, er, I'm making… breakfast. That's what I'm making." He replies as he hastily plunges the bacon into the sink, turning the taps on full blast, "Want some?"

Pepper doesn't reply, just watches him closely as he makes another attempt at bacon. She hates that she has to ruin his good mood.

"You have a doctor's appointment." He falters slightly, "Four o'clock sharp."

He doesn't say anything for a while and the silence stretches out between them, until finally he sighs and turns off the stove, turning round to face her, leaning back against the counter.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know." He says.

It's silent again.

* * *

It's odd. The mountain of medicine stacked on the table makes it look as if Tony has his own pharmacy. Pepper feels nauseous just looking at it.

What's even worse is watching him take them, like some kind of sick and twisted, pharmaceutical cocktail. He says he doesn't mind, but whenever she reminds him to take them he hesitates. She never misses the way his hand curls into a fist as he downs them.

She wonders if he just pretends he's getting drunk.

* * *

Tony and Steve are arguing; she can hear them quite clearly. She'd like to think she doesn't know what it's about, but she does. Every word is as clear as day, and she'd be a fool not to put two and two together. It's always been obvious that the Cap was worried about Tony, everyone was worried about him nowadays, but she hadn't known he was angry with him.

She knows now.

"God damn it, Tony, can't you see you're killing yourself?!" The Cap roars, and Pepper can safely say she's never seen him so angry.

"I _know_, Steve. I don't need _you_ telling me as well!"

"Well, then let your friends help you!"

"_Why can't you just understand_?"

She goes to him not long after the Cap leaves, sees him sitting on his bed, looking blankly out of the window. He doesn't acknowledge her as she sits down next to him and takes his hand, holding it in hers and shuffling up to him. After a moment Tony shuffles as well, closing the space between them, laying his head down on her shoulder. She welcomes the gesture, putting her arm around his back.

"They don't understand, Pep." He tells her quietly, his voice faraway and rugged.

She doesn't say anything for a moment, resting her head lightly on his.

"I understand."

* * *

Tony is asleep on the couch again and she treads softly to him, a blanket at the ready in her hands. As she covers his sleeping form, she tries not to think of a shroud.

* * *

There's a crash. In fact there are several crashes, all coming from the lab, and Pepper's heart is in her mouth as she hurries down, taking three steps at a time. There's no need for the pass code, the windows are smashed.

But not as smashed as Tony's self-control.

His armour is scattered about, his helmet buried in a mess of rubble that was once his hot rod. The man himself is in the process of smashing the drinks fridge, snarling with rage as the glass shatters. He turns his attention to his cluttered desk, sweeping everything from it with a loud clatter in a single, fluid movement. She watches anxiously as Tony staggers back, and his breaths become pants become coughs. Loud, rattling coughs that don't seem to end, even when he drops heavily to his knees. Blood spurts from his mouth and flows down his chin, but still, Tony doesn't stop. Or rather, can't stop.

Pepper rushes forward; there's nothing she wants more than to hold him. And she does. She wraps one arm around him, softly placing her other hand on his cheek, pulling his head to her chest, drawing him closer to her, not caring that the blood is staining her top. It doesn't take too long before she realises he's no longer shaking from the coughs, and it's not only blood that now seeps into the fabric on her shoulder. It hurts her to think she can do nothing to help him. Physically-

"T-they were just k-kids. _THEY WERE JUST KIDS, GOD DAMMIT!"_

-or mentally.

"I know." She whispers, kissing his hair.

"I know."

* * *

Tony's in bed, he has been for a while now, and Pepper can see how much he hates it: to not be able to do anything. He's so pale that the starch white of his bed sheets look yellow in contrast, and nothing she does or says lifts his spirits, not even enough to smile.

Yet still she carries on. She brings him his favourite breakfast, lunch and dinner; reads the funniest news in the tabloid to him; keeps him updated on his fellow Avengers, and even goes as far as buying the funniest book she can find just so that he would _smile_.

She does her best.

* * *

A few of the Avengers are visiting Tony today. She watches as Hank playfully punches the sullen billionaire's arm; as the Cap sits near the foot of the bed, smiling as his hand rests subtly on Tony's blanket-covered leg; as Jan gives Tony a side-hug, pecking him on the cheek; as Thor stands at the side, arms crossed, grinning like a madman. They joke about with him, do their best to comfort to him, try with all their might to cheer him. Jan even goes as far as reducing her size, sitting in his lap and pretending to be a baby. It isn't much, but Pepper hopes seeing his friends will lift Tony's spirits.

It doesn't.

* * *

Pepper hates giving bad news. Nobody likes receiving it.

It helps that Tony listens calmly to what she has to say, but underneath she can see him breaking.

'_After all, tuberculosis is treatable'_, he once assured her. Not with shrapnel lodged into your chest, nor with a science project for a heart. There's only so much strain a heart can take.

Her own has broken long ago.

* * *

It's Tony's birthday today. Pepper had decided long ago that she would throw him a party, and almost every one of the Avengers is here. The Cap, Thor, Banner, Jan and Hank, Parker, The Fantastic Four, Lionheart, Sandman… The list goes on, and all of them combine together to give Tony the time of his life.

What doesn't help is the fact that Tony's bed-bound and everyone's wearing a face mask, although many guests lighten the situation by decorating their masks; even Banner has made his mask look like a duckbill. Pepper worries that it's all too much for him, that perhaps she's gone a little too far.

But then she sees him laugh. His gas mask mars the sight but it's better than nothing. She's missed seeing his smile, she's missed hearing his laugh.

And all of her regrets are washed away at the end, when he catches her hand and momentarily lowers his gas mask, giving her his winning smile.

"Thanks, Pep."

* * *

"I'm dying, Pepper."

He's crying, and she doesn't know what she can do to console him. What do you say to a dying person? The answer is nothing. Words have no meaning, they can't hurt and they can't heal. So Pepper just sits beside him on the bed, one arm around him, her head resting on the top of his.

And she cries with him.

* * *

Pepper sits cross-legged on the balcony floor. Next to her sits Tony. Above them the rays of sun filter through the clouds, scattering light over the cliffs and grass, and throwing the watching pair into striped gold. Pepper grins, watching Tony as the soft breeze plays with his dark hair. Inhaling the fresh air, he leans his head back and clutches Pepper's hand a little more firmly in his lap.

It's one of the few times he's had the strength to be out bed, and even though he sits in a wheelchair and there's a bag valve mask beside Pepper just in case, there's a smile on his face.

"Y'know… I've never realised just how beautiful this place is." He tells her after a while.

* * *

Tony can't breathe. His weak form arches and writhes as his lungs struggle to draw in air. Each laborious, half-choked suck of a breath is painful to hear, and his glazed eyes roam blindly in panic. Thor and the Cap are there, helping him. The God-Doctor is doing his best to keep him breathing, monitoring his vitals and drawing fluid from his lungs. The Cap has the bag valve mask; he alternates between pumping air into Tony's lungs and holding Tony's face in his hands, calming his panicked state and pleading with him to breathe.

"Shh, it's all right, Tony, it's all right. Just _breathe_ for me Tony, _please_... _Breathe_."

Pepper has never been a religious woman. Now all she can do is pray.

* * *

"P…Pepper?"

"Yes, Tony?"

"D-do you…" He has to take another heaving suck from his gas mask, "l-love me?"

"Yes, Tony.

"Y-you... sure?"

"I'm sure, Tony."

"Really?"

"Really, really."

She squeezes his hand with her own, smoothes his hair back with the other. Smiles and joke books won't help him now.

"You…" Another laborious breath, "You're a-amazing… know that?"

"_You _are amazing, Tony."

"Were."

"_Are_." She kisses his hand. There's a presence behind her, a hand on her shoulder. It's the only thing that anchors her here. She hates that.

"H-how'd I… do?"

"Wonderful."

"I… d-didn't s-" Another heave, "save th-that family."

"You saved me, Tony."

"I-I did… didn't I?" A ghost of a smile flickers across his face. His skin is white in the dim light, "I… _do_ love y-you, Miss Potts."

…

"Tony?"

There is silence.

"I love you, too, Mr. Stark."


End file.
